


Seeking Forgiveness

by WildBurr (orphan_account)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anger Problems Aster, Hurt Jack, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Prompt Fill, Thawing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:05:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5931109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WildBurr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fic.</p><p>For close to 100 years he had stood by the Pooka, even at his most difficult.</p><p>For 100 years he cringed from the vicious barbs, the lashing tongue, only to bury himself in warm, apologetic arms afterwards.</p><p>But for 100  years, Aster had never raised his hand against him.</p><p>And now, decades later, a contrite Bunny has to beg his snowflake to finally come home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

."Cold food _again_?"

Jack winced to himself, pausing as he stood scrubbing his own plate in the sink. Slowly, he hunched down against himself, trying to appear smaller as he heard the larger male pace behind him

"And MiM, would it kill you to pick up after yourself? This is a Warren, not a Pig Sty!"

His maps were out because he had several weather patterns to plan and guide and he _knew that._ The winter spirit bit the inside of his cheek and remained silent, knowing that whenever he got into one of these moods, it was best to just ride it out

"And you mixed up my paints _again_ last night! Do you just not care? Ever heard of something called Responsibility?"

He inhaled, slowly, deeply and quietly, waiting until the Pooka gave an annoyed snort and stalked off towards his fields, muttering about getting some proper food. He knew he sorted Asters paints perfectly according to his little spectrum/floor plan chart... But that didn't do much when he came in at some silent hour in the dark of night, exhausted from his preparations and couldn't be bothered to return the clay pots to their correct alcove.

He tried to explain what happened a few times early on in their... Relationship... But it only served to drag a small hours worth of stony silence into a week long argument that, while Aster's apologies were heartfelt, genuine and repeated often, it wasn't worth the feeling of snakes writhing around in his gut.

 

He couldn't stand it when Aster was angry at him. The only person to actually interact with him since his birth from the icy pond, the one who had looked at the ill kept, borderline starved spirit and brought him into his life, his home.

There were arguments then too, but not as frequent or as serious. Mostly involving how a guest shouldn't be expected to serve his host.

These days it seemed as though every day brought a new reason for the bunny to be mad at him. He froze the pump ("Can't you control that bloody ice?"), he dropped his brushes when carrying them to the artist outside ("Do you know how long this will set me back? Of course you don't...") and one time he bumped against a tree to avoid a stampede of eggs, causing the trunk to be sheathed in frost, nipping at the delicate spring shoots.

That... Wasn't a pleasant memory. He almost thought Aster would hit him.

He scolded himself later, once his boyfriend had presented a small wreath of winter flowers, staring at the ground with his ears flat and his voice subdued as he mumbles "Sorry", again and again like a mantra.

Aster, as old as he was, has done and will do many things, but he certainly wasn't the type to strike another without good reason.

 

That was why, when the rabbit crept into their shared nest later that night, the frost sprite exhausted from managing the weather, he made no attempt to pull away from his grasp as strong, toned arms pulled him close. He leaned back against the warm chest, with its powerful heart thudding through the pair of them, as hushed, shamed words spilt over the pair of them.

 

"Ah'm sorry snowflake... Ah didn't mean it, ye know ah don't, ah shouldn't have... Ye did nuthin wrong, an' ah don't have an excuse...

He wordlessly turned round in the others embrace and mumbles for him to stop being stupid, hands grasping fur, head working its way beneath the other's chin the way he likes. He feels the grip on his body tighten and a soft, deep sigh flutters his cloud white hair.

"Love ye Snowflake..."

It would be better tomorrow, he knew. It was his lover's big day, Easter Sunday, '68, and life at home was always better those few months after the preparations all came to fruition. Fewer arguments. More laughter. Easter Night was his favourite time of the year, when he was so at peace and they could spend the whole day talking and smiling and... Other things that made being in a relationship with what was a giant _rabbit_ all the more interesting.

He snuggled in tighter in anticipation for the next day. He always felt safest in Aster's arms...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust takes years to build. And moments to destroy.

It was the heavy thud of their thick, wooden front door that finally roused Aster from his near-comatose slumber, the grey toned hare getting back late last night -or perhaps early morning- to touch up one of his more promising creations. His fingertips were still dyed from the night black paint he had been experimenting with the past few months, trying to create more depth to his designs. Grumbling at nothing, and rubbing his face, the Pooka sat up in their shared nest, peering out at the clock.

With a curse he bounded out of the depression in the floor, kicking up moss as he snatched his gear hanging behind the door, loudly cursing at an absent Jack who forgot to wake him.

_Later, as he stared at the too empty nest, unable to bring himself to enter it, he would remember the Snow spirit attempted to wake him once in the early morning, and again with the scent of breakfast hanging round him. He couldn't sleep for days._

He struggled into his harnesses and bandoliers, hopping on one foot while snatching up the paint he left laying last night, brush rattling around in the little clay pot. Shoving the door open with his hip, he glared at his scattered grenades by the sink, slipping them back into place as he attempted to do several tasks at once. Not for the first time, he would lament how difficult it was to willingly bring his six armed form to the fore.

The kitchen table was a mess with Jack's maps, thick and thin black arrows carefully traced over images of continents and islands in a complex pattern that he couldn't see, but made perfect sense to the younger spirit.

_He had asked one time, before he argued as much, what it all meant as he draped his arms over his lover's shoulders, puzzling a cheek as he watched slender, delicate fingers carefully trace out his itinerary for the weeks, even months ahead. The answer he got wasn't something he could properly understand, even now, but the basics of it was if two many weather patterns interacted, then bad things would happen..._

The air was warm, bringing the scent of fresh, warm cooking keeping warm in the stone oven, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Trust his Snowflake to make sure he started off his special day with a full belly. Carefully transferring the paint pot into his full hand, he opened the oven, wincing at the heat of the handle...

Which made him recoil.

Which sent him bumping his hip against the table.

Which knocked the brush out of the paint pot, dragging a thick streak over one of Jack's maps and part of the table beneath

Slamming the oven door shut with his elbow, he snatched up the brush and headed to his storeroom to stock back up, mentally reminding himself to apologize and clean up the mess when he got back. Breakfast would have to wait until he returned.

_He scrubbed the table until his fingers were almost raw. And even now he can still see that accusing black streak every time he looked at it._

He darted out of the small, Underhill cottage minutes later, securing the last of his supplies onto his harness as he headed for the tunnel openings, slipping into the old habit of directing his creations out into the world, ready to be hidden and hopefully found. He could see the Sun shining through the tunnels, barely a cloud in the sky thanks to his lover, and stretched out for the run ahead.

He smiled at the thought of another perfect Easter Day. And another perfect Easter Night later with his Snowflake.

_He curled himself into a tighter ball as he cursed his name, hardly daring to look at his own hands without shaking. It would be the first of many nights alone._

_And it would be all his fault._

 

\-----------------

He was quite proud of his maps. He knew without a doubt that no mortal would have the luxury of his high levels of accuracy, his birds eye view reflected in a surprising amount of detail for those who only saw his playful antics.

The weather was serious business after all. Someone could get hurt if he didn't carefully tend to the flock of coulds and their herder winds. One place might flood while another withered if he wasn't careful with a his crook and firm voice.

But Easter was the only day in which he broke his usual ironclad rules. The only day he would direct the worst of the weather to the uninhabited mountain peaks, and the least of it out to the coast, leaving the town's, villages and cities basking in beautifully warm sunshine, officially ending the season of ice on the land and welcoming Spring.

It was difficult. There were always rogue winds who refused to heed his call, or fat, lumbering clouds he had to hook with his crook and drag off somewhere it couldn't do any harm. He had to set up this day weeks in advance to ensure none of the fronts would clash, and like his pookan companion his sleep tended to suffer for it.

His maps in that regard were a godsend. As long as he followed his markings, everything would turn out right.

Rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up slightly, he peered at the large, fat stripe ranging from one end of the continent to the other. Was it his imagination, or was the path a little... erratic this year?

The desire to have today over with war red with his sense f concern, until he mentally shrugged and rose his staff to call another wind to his aid. No one else touched his maps after all, and he must have had a reason to include it... maybe after sleeping alongside Aster when they both got home that night would help to remind him.

_That night would be spent sobbing on the roof of a building, nursing his wounds. For days, weeks, months afterwards, he would flee with fear at the once comforting thuds of the Easter bunny's footsteps._

 

\--------------

 

It was snowing.

No, snowing was too mild a term. This was a storm of ice, the sharp pellets digging through his fur to the sensitive skin beneath, chilling him with every gust. He long ago lost one of his bandoliers as he struggled through the foot of snow already coating the earth, and it showed no sign of slowing anytime soon. His eggs, delicate, fragile things they were, were either buried or smashed by the errant weather that sprang up out of no where, and already he could feel the disappointment of the children welling up inside him. Enough had been found to assure the children of his presence, but it was a near thing.

He held his face in his hands as he tried to reason out the storm. There was no way his Snowflake would...

He dragged his paws down, letting him see the dead, bleached bone white of the countryside, looking as dead at the frozen poles Jack liked to visit.

Who else could it be? Who else had the power, the skill... The reason to do this?

Teeth bared in a silent snarl, he bounded for the highest point nearby.

He was always jealous of his believers, of the fact he could be seen! He hated the heat his season brought, the sneaky bugger always giving things up around him! He always complained, bitterly, of the icy cold that snapped him to the core whenever he was walked through, so why not force the whole damn country to feel the same!

His blood boiled as he stood atop the mountain peak, nose to the air. The sickenly sweet scent of crisp mint and fresh snow stood out like a beacon, directing him straight to the little backstabbing spirit...

\-------------

This shouldn't be happening!

He had checked the maps this morning, for the third time in less than 24 hours! There was no way he had made a mistake!

But the proof swirled in the air above him, an angry, twisted ball of season wrath that was currently delivering foot after foot of snow across the land. He had attempted, several times, untangle the conflicting weather fronts, but they were so tightly entwined that it was impossible for him to see where one ended and the other began.

But he had to try. This was Easter, there was no way he could screw up on Easter! Aster needed him,  _needed_ him to keep the skies clear, it was the only good thing he was able to do all year!

No one liked the cold and ice after all. His only saving grace was to suppress what made him a spirit in the first place, and he would do it, no matter how much his core felt like it was tearing itself apart in the process.

Gripping staff with both hands, he forced his magic into the storm, surging into every cloud and wind, wresting control as his skin flushed a pale pink. He wrenched clouds apart as he screamed, drove winds down to the earth at heel, his entire body trembling with the effort to stay above the roiling chaos that his mistake had wrought. Tears pooled at his eyes before freezing, making him blink them away angrily, foregoing his usual delicacy for brute strength. Clouds boiled in his grasp as he literally tore them apart, each savage act biting into his heart.

Finally, the deed was done, and he stood, barely upright, as he sucked in freezing air, leaning heavily on his staff. The skies were clear once more, and though it would take weeks, the warmth of the Sun was already beginning to undo his mistake.

With a shaking hand, he reached for his maps once more, trying desperately to find where he had gone so wrong as the familiar thundering of Aster leaping from his tunnels came from behind him.

"This shouldn't have happened... I'm more careful than this, I...."

 

\-------------

 

How dare he?

_How dare he?_

That damned blizzard finally blew itself out, and he had the gall to say that it shouldn't have happened?

The... that...  _Frostbite_ was buried in his damned maps again as he approached, fingers itching as his claws, rarely seen these days, slipped out, wickedly sharp and thirsty.

And for the first time in centuries, Aster was more than happy to bathe them in the blood they were made to shed.

The frost sprite lowered his map to look up at him, with something resembling happiness that made his bones ache, desperate to wipe that smirk off his face.

"Hey... Cottentail... Am I glad... to see yo-"

Despite the millennia, he was still, at his heart, a pookan warrior. He lashed out, fingers splayed and claws exposed, clubbing him along the face, knocking him to his knees, map fluttering away. For a few seconds, there was no sign anything was amiss until three thick gashes tore open on the pale, porcelain skin, dark crimson covering half his face. Aster's claws dripped into the snow below, each drop sinking in and saturating the snow, spreading like the blooming of a particularly gruesome flower. 

He barely had time to register what had happened, to reach up and feel the sliced edges, to look up at Aster, when a clenched fist slammed into his face from the opposite side, sending him into the drifts completely.

He was yelling now, and he knew it wasn't in any language that had developed on this planet. Pookan expletives spilled out thick and fast as he watched the other try to get to his feet, leaping forward and slamming one of his famed "lucky" feet straight into his gut, lifting him up and away, a thrill running down his spine.

It had been too long since he had any reason to go all out when fighting, and this... this traitor was the perfect vent of centuries of frustration.

He ran up, switching to English so he knew exactly what vengeance was called for, everything the youth had done since his creation; every crop failed, every child starved, his frozen Warren, his ruined holiday, just how much the Pooka has suffered to keep his frozen arse in one piece, and through it all he kicked and punched, landing blow after blow. The Snow was more red than white when he finally slammed him against the trunk of a tree, one clawed hand reaching for his throat.

There, he found the small egg-shaped charm. A piece of his Warren, and a piece of  _him_ , that allowed the other to come and go as he pleased.

With a snarl, he yanked roughly, almost snapping the neck as the thick cord broke, ignoring the cry of pain as he slammed him again, feeling the ancient oak shudder.

"You are no longer welcome in my home,  _Frostbite_... And if I ever... _ever_... come across you again... I will  _end you._ "

He gave one last slam again at the trunk before letting go, sneering as it coughed, creating more crimson flowers, reaching out with hands that had more than one finger at odd angles, crawling like some lesser beast, eventually find I g and grasping his staff. 

He staggered forward as fast as he could, urging the wind to take him, the stench of fear filling the clearing and the pooka's nostrils long after he watched the sprite vanish into the distance.

As he turned to leave, the wind, mundane in every way, caught the scattered maps, one catching on his hip and fluttering. Grimacing, Aster reached down, yanking it up and grabbing in both hands, ready to shred it when...

A thick, black streak over the continent. In his own paint no less.

The hare was many things. Easily frustrated, quick to rile up, insensitive at times... but he wasn't stupid.

The realisation slammed into him like a freight train, dropping the parchment as if burnt, where it caught on the wind again, landing and fluttering on a tree trunk flecked with red, a silent accusation from nature itself.

Ice stabbed into his heart as he looked down at his paws, more red than grey, his stomach twisting as he screamed inside his own head.

  _I didn't want this. I didn't mean this. There's... there too much blood and..._

_What have I done?_

**_What have I_ ** _**done?**_

\-------------

His whole body burnt.

His face was... numb. But felt like it was on fire all the same. His chest and gut... something firm was poking out, moving with ever strained breath, and he knew for a fact this was a bad sign. His leg... there was no avoiding the truth, it was broken, in at least three places, and the middle portion was jutting out through skin slightly.

Still he flew own. Only sheer terror of what lay behind him kept him conscious for now, his heart pounding the hardest it ever had since he awoke on the ice. The miles swept away beneath him until he twisted just the wrong way, the fresh surge of pain enough to draw his attention, causing him to collapse into a snow drift.

He lay there, trembling for minutes until a familiar sound caused him to look up, crying out in panic.

Aster's tunnel opening up.

  _I will end you_

Ignoring his body's protests, he forced himself up and along, begging the wind to carry him, shivering as a once familiar voice cried out in the wind.

"Jack!"

He never looked back, urging the wind on faster, slurping his words as he clenched his eyes, fully expecting the sharp bite of the spring spirits boomerang in his back at any moment.

Miraculously, he escaped unscathed, traveling tens of miles before slumping once more to the earth, a large rock outcrop.

Once more he was allowed minutes of breathing room before the rabbit opened another tunnel, setting the Chase on again.

Hours melted past him, lost in a foggy haze of terror and pain,  crashing to earth, sucking in Wingfield of air before his Hunter would be one him once more, seeking to finish the job.

It was only sheer chance he landed on the tower of a town hall, far from the earth and all connected to it. Minutes past and became hours. For the first time, he could allow himself to collapse into the white hot fury that was the pain filling his body, swiftly gifting him unconscious oblivion for the time being.

He would heal, in time.  Everything did, for a spirit. Except that which mattered most.

And as the Shepard of Clouds hid himself away from the world, the Harbinger of Spring sought his Mate, one phrase burning inside him.

**_I'm sorry_ **

**_I'm sorry_ **

**_I'm sorry_ **

**_I'm sorry_ **

**_Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That... actually hurt to write in some places. Ow.
> 
> Next, we'll see how they fare from 1768 to 2012.  
> Prepare for feels people.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aster laments.  
> Jack accepts.
> 
> And our innocent sprite is no more.

_**2 Months after Easter 68** _

 

Aster stared at the entrance to his cottage for the hundredth time since his return, lost in thought. He hadn't been able to go near the place without a memory rising like some kraken from the forsaken, inky depths, where unpleasant thoughts should have been left to die. The garden reminded him of yelling. The doorway reminded him of yelling. The view through the window reminded him of icy silence.

Everything in the Warren reminded him of his Mate. And through it all, he noticed one very important detail.

There was more yelling then laughter. More silence than loving words. More anger than happiness.

And every time he poked deeper, he saw a pattern.

Jack had an accident. And Aster completely overreacted. Jack tried to help. And Aster took it the wrong way. Jack hurt himself restraining his powers.

And Aster thought "About time" and ignored the obvious pain his supposed "lover" was in.

He was a seasonal himself after all, and knew the strain it put upon the body and mind to constantly suppress it. 

Why didn't he notice it before? Was he really that oblivious to his lovers feelings, or was he honestly more worried about a handful out of the millions of eggs he produces? 

He grabbed his arms as he delved deeper into his own thoughts, trying to find some cause, some explanation that would exonerate him. But the ugly truth always rose up to meet him. The Warren, after all, was mostly empty. It was meant to be the birthplace of a new civilization of Pooka after all, not just a shell to house a solitary buck. Would it really have been so difficult to find a small, unused region and devote it to his lover? His Snowflake who tried so hard to make him happy?

A small, bitter part loomed over him, listing reasons why he couldn't, shouldn't. He was too busy with his holidays, the Warren couldn't handle a winter region, the idiot wouldn't stick to it, it wasn't his place to use, it was the sanctuary of the Pooka, he didn't belong there!

Immediately he screwed his eyes shut, trying desperately to un-think that last thought, but it already crept into every corner of his mind.

_That's why you don't trust him._

_That's why you ignore his needs._

_That's why you don't touch him unless its rut._

_That's why you restricted where he could go in the place you asked him to call home._

_He isn't a Pooka, and you can't accept that._

He shook his head violently and ran off to the deeper regions of the Warren, away from the cottage and the accusations that nipped on his heels.

_It shouldn't matter that he's not a Pooka._

 

_But it does._

 

**_2 years after Easter 68_ **

 

The mostly wooden spirit let out a soft sigh of exertion as he finally lowered his hands from the young seasonal's face, watching the wounds carefully for sign of rejection. For three days he had poured his own, more sympathetic magic into the cub, ever since he found him collapsed, hanging on to a steeple with a death grip to rival steel.

There were signs of a brutal encounter, still in the process of healing, although strictly speaking they all should have healed long ago. The Winter child must have run afoul of a crowd of Spring sprites to receive so many blows. Thankfully, with a bit of rest, he would start to recover.

Except for the face. There was nothing the cub could do about the three gashes that still leaked angry viscera, the angry black lines that traced the veins on his cheek. Hells, there was barely anything he could do besides prevent it from progressing further.

Spring magic didn't react well to Winter flesh. And Autumn barely provided the link between the stronger summer season and the sprites own. The sheer hatred behind the assault and the opposing elements, well...

The cub certainly had power. Anything less would have seen the Spring Thaw surge through their entire body within a few hours, much less the months this young one had held out for.

Satisfied that the metaphysical patch would hold, he left him to sleep off the worst of his injuries, absent mindlessly growing a few apples on the branches above his head and plucking one off, teeth more suited to a diet of fatty fish breaking the bitter skin to sink into the sweet flesh beneath.

Perhaps he would be hungry when he woke? Oh, it had been centuries since he had to entertain guests! Surely he could coax a few rows of wheat and corn to grow? Oh, and pumpkins! The humans loved it when he coaxed them big and round and fat during his time of the year!

The old, mostly forgotten harvest spirit smiled to himself as he waddled out of the den he had set up for the youth. Perhaps, if he stayed to recover, he would forgo hibernation this year... 

 

_**50 years after Easter 68** _

 

In all honestly, the small pile was rather pathetic considering.

100 years or so together, and this was all there was to show?

The small bundle of clothes, mostly tops and cloaks, were kept to one precious pile by the side. Even now they still retained some of Jack's scent, each breath carefully hoarded by the hare, every sniff causing his heart to flutter and for a few seconds he could forget the last five decades. Then reality would crash down on him and his heart would turn to lead and drop into the pit of his stomach.

A tiny pile of various knick knacks and curios collected during his duties. A stuffed bear, once missing a limb and most of its stuffing, carefully and lovingly repaired during the warm summer nights. Small fossils that had the younger male hanging off every word as he explained about the great beasts now past, how their remains survived the years, debating over the possibility of once day discovering fossils from this time. Small, easily lost items that became precious treasures, from brightly coloured marbles to coins in various denominations.

His crafting tools that saw Aster as the recipient of thick, woven blankets, carefully shaped wooden decorations, and his several attempts to create socks that would fit his odd feet and protect him from the cold- _will you stop clattering those bloody needles ye_  -that no matter how they turned out tended to slip down his ankles and trip him up.

He wore them anyway -  _and blamed him for your clumsiness_.

It was... depressing. His creations were already gone, victims of his earlier fits of rage  _and shouldn't that have been a warning sign?_ that caused the Warren to become thick and stifling. When he did finally pull his head out of his arse and apologize...

Those were the night's Jack never turned round to return his hug.

Three small piles, and the hooks in the kitchen for a staff that would never hang there again were all he had to remind him of what was possibly the only good thing in his life since the fall of the Golden Age.

In the fifty years since his greatest mistake, not once had he caught sight of his other half. Oh, there had been plenty of near misses. He couldn't avoid the earth forever, and whenever his bare toes brushed the dirt, or his sleeve slid along a branch, it sent alarm bells ringing in his head, already drumming up a tunnel.

The worst part was the scent. The fresh tang in the air that was already being stirred and dispersed by his ever loyal zephers sent hope blooming in his chest. Then came the other scent, earthy, strong and showed up often enough to prove that it was no mere coincidence.

_Hes mine, my doe, you won't have him!_

Was it so easy to replace him? To find someone else to hold him at night, to comfort and protect him?

_Because you did such a great job with that._

The rabbit winced as he rubbed his head, tearing his eyes away from the meagre belongings of his Mate. His thoughts seem to swing back and forth from one extreme to the other ever since Jack left.

Or, if he was honest with himself, long before he drove Jack away.

As he reached out for a nearby cloak with guilt squirming inside him, the earth trembled underfoot, the scrap of cloth forgotten.

Jack had touched down again. This time he wasn't getting away.

Eagerly he drummed up a tunnel and leapt in, hope rising once more.

 

_**80 years after Easter 68** _

 

"That's it Cub... just like that lens I showed you... touch up your control on the left.... see? Haha, I knew you could do it!"

The ursine spirit grinned as Jack shaped the essence of ice between his hands, the resulting lance of pure cold striking a tree trunk held off the ground with several strong vines, a loud cracking filling still air of the clearing as ice clung to the dead wood.

He didn't know who had looked after his Cub for the first century of life, he supplied neither that name nor his own, but hadn't they tried to teach him anything? Of course the whole Spring/Winter thing was an issue, but surely the basics could have been touched upon?

The hooded figure gave a small, tired chuckle as he hovered in place, flexing and stretching his fingers. His unnamed benefactor, who he had taken to calling "teddy" in the privacy of his mind, was examining the acorns on a nearby tree, coaxing them to swell a little more in preparation for Jack's season ahead. Ice kept the hood of his cloak upright in all weather, obscuring his face from view save for the pale, blue glint of his eyes, and a thick, carefully grown collection of vines wrapped round his torso, gathered at his back, allowing him to hold anything in their grasp, such as his staff when he was enjoying riding the breeze. A late birthday present he had explained. 

If he was honest, he wasn't sure what to make of the older autumn, harvest spirit. He enjoyed the younger man's company, if the open invitation to his Den was anything to say about it, but hadn't seemed to pursue anything more than companionship with him. And he was pleasant enough, always making time for when he did eventually drop by, even going out of his way to teach him several things about being a spirit.

But the simple fact was, he didn't feel comfortable around him, for all he liked the elder male. He could almost see Aster treating him the same way so many years ago, from the invitation to the shared meals.

And it made him feel terrible, it really did, as he had done nothing to warrant his suspicions, but he couldn't, wouldn't, allow himself to relax. To trust the guy that called him "Cub" and made a space at the table for him. Who gently woke him when the dreams became too real and wordlessly held him until he stopped shaking. Who laughed at his jokes and pranks, told him a few he had pulled from his younger days and scolded him when he took some jokes too far.

He wonders if this is what the children he played with felt when they were with their father's.

It sounded nice.

But there was always those times... after a few weeks, or even months of comfortable company, that he would wake up and just panic. He had to get out, before it was too late.

Teddy never said anything when he watched the sprite gather his things in a frenzied, silent rush, merely opening the way back to the world with a soft "stay safe" following him out.

And silently, he made a fist that cracked knuckles as he made a promise to slug the man responsible for turning what was once a sweet, playful lad into someone who can't trust a simple act of kindness.

 

_**125 years after Easter 68** _

 

It was infuriating if he thought about it too long.

Tooth and her mini fairies had spied Jack during their travels, their interactions friendly enough, but he always kept his distance from them, if anything beginning to fly higher above the earth. He had managed to avoid any awkward questions from his request to be kept in touch of his movements by giving weak excuses regarding snowfall and his spring holiday.

If it was anyone else, they would have seen through him immediately. Thank MiM for a tooth obsessed Queen.

Sandy was the least taken in with his excuses, but as a trade off, he saw little of the snow child anyway. From what he had heard, Jack avoided travelling at night, only showing up when his duties forced him to. From what he had made out of Sandy's pictograms, he hadn't even allowed him to gift him a sweet dream, which didn't sound at all like his bubbly little Snowflake. He always wanted to experience the Sandman's gift for hinge, the innocence always bringing a smile to his face.

To hear he actively avoided the one he had been most excited to meet made him wonder just how much he had changed over the past century.

North was... well, North. His vision was extremely narrow if it didn't have anything to do with Christmas, so the fact that he would forget Aster's request to keep his eyeout for the frost haired teen, and by association, forgetting saw the spirit in the first place, made him grit his teeth.

Nevertheless, he was always enthusiastic about announcing his White Christmasses year after year, even in places that rarely ever saw snow. It didn't take agenius to recognise Jack's handiwork.

That he had to resort to asking for their help to find his missing mate galled him, biting his tongue whenever Tooth twittered about the rumours of his shiny white teeth. If only he would stay still long enough for him to say something, anything!

He debated asking the fairies to carry messages in the event they ever saw him, but decided against it. Words on a page wouldn't convey what he needed to convey.

When he finally got his paws on him, he'd open a tunnel straight to the Warren. Without a method of getting out, he would have no choice but to listen to him. To come back to him.

After all, who else would put up with the troublemaker?

 

**_180 years after Easter 68_ **

 

 __It was interesting, watching the humans. They had changed so much  since he first woke in the ice.

For one thing, they built more. Small villages made way for large cities, ideas bloomed, became popular, were disproved and faded once more, only to be replaced by new theories that followed the same path.

But still the children played.

Long ago, before that fateful Easter, he would have given anything to be seen by the children as they played in his snow. To join in on their games and laughter, to see someone happy that he was around, that appreciated his gift.

But back then, he didn't have to keep his face hidden at all times. 

He reached up to gently stroke at the numb portion of his face, wincing slightly at the sharp bloom of pain. A pale glow came from his fingertips and the pain receeded, cheek glittering in the light from the moon above.

He sneered slightly up at the full moon, silently cursing his silent betrayal. Even now, after one of his oh so precious Guardians had more or less mauled him, he refused to send down a message. Not even an apology for moot stripping the Pooka of his title.

_He watched him sometimes, hidden in cloud banks and winds pulling his scent away, his ice ready in hand if the damned kangaroo so much as looked at the kids funny. The fact he looked none the worse for ware grated on his nerves._

It was tempting to rain blizzard after blizzard on his day, and he would be lying if he didn't think about it at night, the damned multicoloured monstrosities he called eggs buried under a calming blanket of snow, the rabbit himself frozen from the tips of his whiskers to the marrow of his bones.

There were nights when he wasn't sure if it was a dream or nightmare, when the bloody rabbit was frozen and shattered by the eggs he scattered around. He could only take comfort that he never would, no matter how tempting.

After all, the kids liked him. He wouldn't disappoint the kids of all things.

But if they weren't a factor? If he was at his mercy, with no one to miss the bunny if he went missing?

To his shame, he thought that he would. So much for being better than him.

Maybe it was time to drop in and visit Teddy again. He always felt better after a night in a proper bed.

 

_**219 years, 11 months and 28 days after Easter 68** _

 

 __No...

Please, no.

Not him.

Leprechaun, groundhog, the bloody Unicorn, anyone!

Please, don't drag Jack into this fight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I hadn't went for this prompt, there was another I would have done.
> 
> In which Jack brings back the Pooka... only for Aster to cheat on him with a Pooka
> 
> I swear, I'll adore anyone who writes that.
> 
> Also, not a self insert! I did try to think of a creature that represented Autumn well enough, but all I could think of was a bear! If anyone has suggestions, maybe I'll re-write the character.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear and rage go hand in hand.
> 
>  
> 
> And Aster doesn't recognize himself.

It was still well within the safe part of the year, allowing him to interact with the kids a bit more closely than he could otherwise. The boy, Jamie he recalled, had loved the track he had whipped up, his yells and laughter still bubbling away inside his chest.

He still wouldn't risk touching down, and he had to keep a close eye on his hood, even though they still couldn't see him, but for the most part the week before Easter was when he finally allowed his tense muscles to relax, to let his guard down.

He had done it for decades. There was no reason to think anything had changed.

He really had to learn to stop tempting fate like that.

 

\-----------------

 

The rabbit and spirit stared at each other, one tense and bristling, the other subdued and attempting to be soothing, taking a step closer.

"Jack... MiM Jack, I finally found you..."

The ice spike that barely grazed his toe as he leapt back shouldn't have been unexpected when he thought about it. Casually, he shifted from foot to foot, ducking and leaping, always stepping closer, boxing him in towards the brick wall of the alleyway where he finally, after near 200 years, found his Mate once more...

"Jack, I know -bugger!- I know I don't deserve -bloody hell that's cold- look, if you just let me explain..."

Jack swung his staff wildly, hands trembling even as they tightened on the weathered wood, every swing accompanied by a memory, ones he thought he had comfortably buried after years of Aster-free winters. 

The snap of his leg.

The blow to his face.

The kick to his gut.

With a yell borne of pure, unadulterated panic, he swept his staff along, a thick sheet of ice rising up to separate himself from the advancing rabbit. It wouldn't slow him for long, but already he was off the ground and moving, urging the ever present zepher to move him faster.

Aster cursed as he leapt onto the wall and rebounded over the ice, landing on all fours and launching himself forward, slipping into the familiar momentum as he followed the scent he had longed for.

As he rounded the corner only reflexes honed in the heat of war saved him from an impromptu freezing, arching his body around the stream of cold the boy produced. He hadn't been able to do that last they met... What else had changed?

"I did what you asked!  _Why won't you leave me alone_?!"

Aster's face twisted into a grimace, ignoring the feeling of an ice shard lodging into his heart. He had said that. In an unwarranted rage, he had said that. No wonder he never stuck around. The Pooka urged himself on faster as he skidded round corners and leapt over piles of rubbish, his eyes and snout locked in on the fleeing sprite. The maze of alleys and side streets were running out, and he knew if he allowed Jack to reach the open, he was good as gone. With a soft grunt of effort, he drummed as he landed, opening up the tunnel as he leapt. Calculations mumbled between his lips before he landed, entering the tunnel, popping out just as Jack passed by.

The wiry spirit struggled immediately as thick, furred arms, once a comfort, wrapped around him, bringing him down to the earth. His staff was knocked out of his hand as they both landed against a wall, the air being forced out both their lungs, and in desperation he started to kick and bite, taking a twisted glee at the pained grunts and curses from the Rabbit.

If he was going down, he was going down fighting after all.

 

\-------------

 

It was almost frightening seeing him like this.

He had seen wild animals caught in traps before, less often these days, but enough to recognize the signs. He was scared and desperate to escape, even if that injured him in the process.

Without thinking, he twisted their bodies until his back was against the wall, his chin resting on the blue hoodie he had somehow obtained over the years, grinding his teeth soothingly. Reaching up carefully, he stroked the hood slowly, trying to will his heartbeat to a calmer pace, arm holding the younger male tightly against his torso. At first it did nothing, only increasing the teens efforts. Slowly however, either through acceptance or sheer exhaustion, he slowed. His kicks had less strength to them, his bites more like worrying at a bone rather than trying to tear out chunks of flesh.

The panting youth hung in his grasp bonelessly, his eyes focused on the patterns of the brickwork before him, body slowly relaxing. He was well and truly caught now, no tricks up his sleeve or back up to call on. Taking a deep breath, he waited for the rabbit to make good of his threat. It would be better like this anyway. Quick. Clean. Not like the other method open to him.

But instead the rabbit only stroked his head through his hood, warm breath steaming so close to his icy skin. 

He hated himself that he missed this so much, even after all these years. 

It was warm and God, he hated it, but he felt safe within those broad arms. The familiar scent of damp earth and growing plantlife brought memories of the pair curled up in their shared nest. The soft grinding of his teeth reminded him of lazy mornings when neither of them saw a good reason for untangling their limbs...

"I missed ye so much Snowflake..."

It was as though someone flicked a switch in his brain. Snowflake? He had the gall to call him  _Snowflake_ after what he did? The months of agony as his bones pulled together, the ever present numbness in the side of his face?

"Jus' come back t' th' Warren, please? Come home..."

Home? He nearly broke his neck removing any thought of a safe haven from his mind. Whatever happened to  _Frostbite_? What happened to the shouted threats of finishing the job? The fact he hunted him down like a wounded beast for days, months afterwards while he struggled to heal?

"I fucked up, I fucked up bad Jackie, ah know that, but if ye let me explain..."

Explain? Explain what? He lost his temper, and not for the first time? How often did he put you down, yelling and condescending, with that smug smile when you forgave him, as always?

He couldn't explain away the ache in his leg. He couldn't explain the marks on his face.

The ticking time clock his first blow gave him.

The rest of the hare's words were drowned out by the gales that sprung up around them, the icy winds sapping his strength before he even realised what had happened. Ice crackled loudly as it formed, travelling down the boy's torso and arms, and Aster cursed as he pulled his arms away, fur flash frozen and crumbling over his fingertips when he was too slow to pull back.

The wind got even stronger as the bunny stepped back, raising his arm to shield his eyes from the impossible maelstrom now occupying a mere square meter of space in some dank, stinking alley. It towered above him as a pale figure rose to his feet within, ice growing over and threatening to crack Windows, pipes, locks, everything was fair game. The storm moved as he did, advancing towards the unfortunate Pooka.

"J-Jackie.. calm... Jus' calm d-"

He swallowed the rest of the sentence as the figure before him reached his staff, flicking it up with a well practiced flick of the foot. As soon as pale fingers wrapped around the wood, the storm froze in place, hanging motionless as the howling winds became an instant calm. Then, submitting to gravity, the icy boulders fell, damaging walls, roads, an unfortunate scooter that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And still he advanced. His pale blue eyes glowing under the dark shadows of his hood and for the first time Aster had to wonder. Just how much power was he holding in on a day to day basis?

His back flinched as he stepped back against frozen brickwork, unable to hold back a wince as he felt fur stick. But he didn't dare close his eyes.

He knew this... This storm in human form... His Snowflake... wouldn't appreciate that.

"Snowflake? Jackie? You seriously have the guts to call me that? After what  _you did_?!"

He cringed as icicles grew out from the wall around him, gleaming sharp, trying to pull his arms in a little closer.

"Two... Hundred...  _Fucking_ years, years with you fucking  ** _hunting me down_** , and you just expect me to just crawl back into your arms and.... And... Urgh, I can't even begin to explain just how  _fucking_ wrong you are!"

He swung the curved, club-like end of his staff forward, pointing it straight at the spring seasonal's face, glaring, his eyes the type of deep blue only sailors saw before the depths took them into their bitter, frigid coffins.

"You...  _broke me_ Aster. Tell me why I shouldn't return the favour."

The sub-zero air seemed to suck the strength out of his lungs, the Pooka wheezing, struggling to draw breath, even as his eyes begged his lover wordlessly. With a gasp that rasped at his throat, he breathed out one short word.

"k.... ki..ds..."

His vision began to darken around the edges, and the pooka's heart trembled as he seriously began to believe... that the sweet, caring, loving youth he spent a century with would do it. That Jack, the man who cooked him breakfast, who reminded him to take rests, who put up with his Shit for so long, would actually do what Pitch tried and failed at many times.

To snuff out the last of the Pooka.

At the last second sweet oxygen began to rush into his lungs again, throat aching where the chill had scraped it raw. The icicles around him began to, grudgingly, recede back into the wall, allowing him to drop to his knees, gripping himself tightly as he tried to remind himself just what warmth was. Until the crook forced his head up by lifting his chin, forcing their gazes to meet, one harsh and steely, the other trembling and sorrowful.

"Talk. Now."

Before he managed to pry his lips apart however, a deep crimson sack descended over the youth, staff clattering to the ground as the pair of yeti grimly restrained him within, their thick pelts providing much more protection than Aster's thin coat could. With a grunt, one of them opened up a portal and swung him through, pausing only to grab the stick, the other carefully lifting the frozen statue of a guardian to its thick chest in an attempt to regulate his thaw. Too fast would cause as much damage as just leaving him as an ice cube.

Aster barely registered the yells of rage and fear from the sprite before descending into sweet, cotton-brained oblivion....

\-------------------

 

The twittering of fairies surrounded the miserable lagomorph as he defrosted at the roaring fire, watching the events from afar without truly focusing on it. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what he had seen... how Jack had acted.

Yes, he would admit... it was hardly his finest moment. And yes, he expected anger, but...

Jack... He was ready to kill. He was  _able_ to kill.

That wasn't the Jack he knew and loved. This new version of him... He was never this... cold.

Did he cause that?

He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself with a self mocking grumble.

_ You near tore him apart. Shut up and be thankful he didn't return the _ favor.

Dragging his mind back to the present, he was able to catch the old bandit explaining why Jack had been dragged against his will to the heart of "enemy territory".

To say it was a disaster would be putting it mildly.

As soon as the sack landed within the Workshop, Jack went... insane, for lack of a better term. Ice crept along the floor and walls, several elves were flash frozen... only the presence of several of the tooth fairies reined him in, settling for flowering at North and the mans utter inability to recognise sarcasm when he heard it. 

And for keeping something solid between himself and Aster at all times.

If his fellow guardians noticed it, then at least they had the decency not to mention it. They had bigger problems to worry about.

"Yeah... no. I do  _not_ want to be a Guardian. Especially if in have to work with the Rabbit."

A couple of decades ago, he had mentioned to North that he should actually open his ears and listen to people for a change. That other people's ideas and opinions were equally valid.

"Haha... of course you do! Mus-"

Maybe if he took that on board he wouldn't have a pissed off ice spirit currently aiming an icicle tipped staff at the older cossack's throat. 

"Are you seriously listening to yourself? First you kidnap me, then try to force me into a job I don't want... Are you really that dense?"

Aster's ears twitched as Jack yanked his staff away, a faint red line rising in its wake, caring North to splitter and Tooth to gasp. Sandy, as always, was silent, but his eyes were narrowed as he read between the lines, glancing suspiciously at the Easter Bunny once or twice. Bracing himself, he shrugged off the blanket and made to stand between Jack and the door, matching Jack's gaze.

"We need Ya ma-... Jack. The kids need ya... ol' man in th' moon wouldn't have-"

Another ice shard shot past him, Jacks rant about high and mighty bastards knowing and saying Fuck all. The teens rage, such as it was passed quickly however, much to the relief of North's doorway. Either he had already exhausted his anger earlier, or he was willing to listen to reason.

Still, the spirit glared every time he caught sight of the moon through the Windows, resisting the urge to flip him the bird and be done with it.

 

\--------------

 

Jack rubbed at his cheek as he listened to the more reasonable Tooth, spinning the tip of his staff on the floor. While Aster had given him the bare bones "protecting kids" spiel when they were together, he never went into as much detail as this.

The Golden Age. The great prison. The General who became the most feared, the most hated of enemies. The genocides, including the peaceful llamas and the militaristic Pooka. That one had been a surprise. The Rabbit never told him that.

There were a lot of things he wasn't told apparently. Not least of all the fact a Guardian's strength, magic, their very life force, was tied into their belief.

Scowling, he added another layer of ice to his hoodie. Really, either North was just that Dumb and over excited, or he was smarter than he looked and devious. Considering how often he was around and protected children, he wasn't sure which would be more comforting.

For a moment, he thought about it. What was it like, to fade? Like sleeping and never waking? Or like pulled apart, piece by piece until nothing remained but an echo?

Either way, without believers, he would be both useless and near death the moment he took that damn vow.

Tooth was... Tolerable, for all that she has the attention span of a gnat if it didn't involve teeth. Her fairies had always been civil, so he'd give her the benefit of a doubt for now. Maybe she just didn't know how to deal with new people and fell back on her profession as an ice breaker, though if that were the case she really needed to intersect with folk who aren't used to her.

Sandy was an odd one. A fallen star according to Tooth, and yet another thing Aster never mentioned. Living stars? If he was honest, he probably wouldn't have believed him anyway. His pictionary style of talking was a fun distraction for the most part, and he had brains in his head, unlike his fellows it seemed. More than once he had signed something about him and the Rabbit... something about searching, but he quickly dissuaded him from developing down that line of questioning by rapidly firing his own off.

So far it seemed to be working.

That still left the Pooka in the room however.

When the others were busy, scurrying over North's globe, he cautiously approached, staff ready to swing. He took a smug, petty joy as he made out the uneven fur, his one vain transport, and manoeuvred himself around the table, ensuring something lay between them at all times.

Teddy had warned him that he couldn't handle another attack like that, and he wasn't willing to risk his safety on the mental stability of a damn alien.

"Lets get this over with, shallwe? Stay the Fuck away from me, and your friends here won't have to dress up a kangaroo for your holiday."

His jaw parted although to rebuff the intentional insult before snapping shut, watching him warily. He remembered that look... The one he gave whenever he started to apologize, as though he was being the bigger man of the two. Wood groaned under his fingers as his grip tightened, before relaxing. This time, he was the better man, and he knew it.

"Keep your hands, boomerangs, eggs and most importantly,  _claws_ to you self. If you call me anything other than Jack, I will  ice over those famous feet of yours. I  _know_ you've heard of Frostbite, and if you don't have a person standing between us at all times, I promise you, you'll ft a  _first hand experience_..."

 

\-------------

 

Aster sat mutely as Jack rattled off his list and associated threats, nodding slowly to each. For the first time, he was actually able to look at the seasonal.

The clothes were most obvious. Hand stitched, tailored. A quick scurrying telling him how robust against the elements it was, all kind of protective spells woven between the threads. The hood seemed to be stuck in place with a thick layer of ice, casting his face in permanent shadow. Probably another spell, though MiM knew what for.

His deer skin pants, shredded during his... His outburst, were long gone. Instead, he wore those durable denim numbers, thick jeans that hid his slightly skinny legs, making him look more... well, if he was honest, he still loved the sprite, and those jeans just made him want to grab him and...

The ever present threat of being turned into the biggest rabbit stature on earth held him back.

His hands were more scarred than he remembered, faint lines ccrossing over the back of his palms. His feet looked more rugged, as though his constant barefoot nature had caught up to him. But those eyes were the worst.

He could remember a time when those eyes stared at him, full of warmth, affected, as exasperated as it was, and love. 

How could he have dimmed that glow? His eyes shone with power, even as they were cold and lifeless within, and it chilled him more than any mere glacier could. Perhaps for the first time, the full weight of what he had done settled in an uncomfortable pit in his stomach, sickening him.

As Jack's voice trailed off, he licked dry lips, watching him carefully, rising up as slow and as unthreatening as possible...

"Jack... I don't de-"

He was cut off however by Tooth's frantic cries about her headquarters and North's booming voice announcing a sleigh ride.

Watching Jack's back retreat from him without a word easily crushed any possible objections as he trudged after them, Sandy watching with silent, humourless eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, some folk seem interested in me doing that cheating fic, so tell you what. Leave a comment if you want me to. Give it a go, and if enough show interest, I'll try it after a few fluffy one shots.
> 
> Had some trouble with this chapter. Could you tell?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Murder of Nightmares.
> 
> A rescued confidante.
> 
> And the enemy revealed.

The flight to the Tooth stronghold was uneventful, save for Aster's panicked squeaks whenever the normally heavily loaded sleigh swung wildly, the normally landlocked seasonal attempting to burrow down into the wood.

Maybe, once upon a time, that would have made him smile.

As it was, the hooded Frost rolled his eyes disdainfully, allowing the wind to match North's brisk pace. For the ever flying spirit it was only a power walk in comparison, devoting his time to watching the earth fly by below them with bored uninterest.

Then North pulled out another of those glowing snow globes, Jack's gut tingling a little in familiar nausea. Nevertheless, the group of five swooped through the opening, landing...

Somewhere hot.

Already he could feel the temperature rising under his hood, biting back a curse as he added more ice, mentally gripping it tight as to prevent any more melting. The towers that were rapidly approaching on the horizon were certainly a sight to behold, even the jaded teen had to admit. Carefully polished bronze shone in a way that was both gleaming and dulled, highlighted with inlays of gold and coloured glass that... could actually be massive gems now that he looked at it with a more critical eye. With so many riches being used as building material, it was no wonder she could afford to pay for every young tooth in the world.

He slowed his flight to hang back next to North and the Sister of Flight, peering out at the great palace of Punjam By Loo, raising a hand to his eyes to shield them from the setting Sun's last rays.

"Is that a... storm?"

North wordlessly reached for his twin scimitars as Tooth produced a thin, gleaming sabre from somewhere among her feathers, her gaze turning from gentle and warm, to cold and steely.

"Storms don't move against the wind..."

The thrashing clouds of inky blackness and flashing glimmers boiled around the palace in a cyclone, looking more like some lovecraftian abomination ensnaring the majestic towers in cyclopean tendrils. The flashes, starting from the very edges of the amorphous beast, dwindled and were swiftly devoured by the eldritch black tar, the flickers of light gathering at the core of the falling citadel.

With a war cry to rival any berserker, Queen Toothiana, last Sister of Flight, put on a burst of speed as North cracked the reins above his giant reindeer, fire in his eyes as old battles, of which his current outlook on life was both proud and ashamed of, roared in his mind, his ever trusty blades urging to sink into blood and flesh and bone, singing to the old marauder of battles fought and won where blood flowed as water, eagerly drank by the bare, thirsty earth.

Sandy spent the time rocking in the accelerating sleigh, crafting anything and everything that the innocent souls of the word dreamt up to protect them from the unseen, but by no means harmless creatures in the night. Golden sand danced above his hands before coalescing into shields, toy soldiers, sweeping mantas and more, creating a barrier around the mostly defenceless sleigh.

Even Jack was swept into the fray, his heart pounding as he grinned, ice cracking loudly as it grew in fits and jumps, encasing him in armour of his own making. Frost flared brightly across his staff, and along the crook grew a series of curved, viciously sharp icicles, the opposite end growing one large enough to be considered a dagger in its own right, transforming the harmless shepherding tool into some barbarous weapon straight from an arctic nightmare. 

Aster's eyes narrowed as he winced, a small spark of what approached him in the alley shining through the young man he broke decades ago. Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and pulled his boomerangs free, feeling the comforting weight as he spun them, testing their balance. His pouches were full of his grenade eggs, and if it he really needed to, he could open a tunnel straight to the Warren for a sentinel to toss him a new supply.

As the would be rescuers closed the gap between themselves and Punjam, the storm rose up, higher and higher in the dying rays of Sun, before shattering, North grimly tying the reins in place.

"They come... Be ready!"

\-----------------

The beasts, coal black and with golden eyes, charged in one singular stampede, Champing, whineying and roaring, their hooves kicking up black dust that made them hazy, their forms seeming to melt into each others, with only the glow of their burning eyes to guide the warriors. Tooth made the first confirmed kill, her blade like a sliver of moonlight as it sliced through the Nightmares neck with ease. With the mortal blow struck, the abomination began to petrify and crumble, dust falling to the jungles far below. From the stomach, a pair of dazed fairies shook themselves free of the beast's remains, raising up to join their queen...

Only for a fresh NightMare to rise up behind them, jaw open unnaturally wide, unhinged like a snake, thick, oily tongues snapping out to wrap around the escapees and pull them down its gullet, kicking and struggling as they travelled down to its bloated stomach.

By now the dark forces had arranged themselves into formations of sorts, the galloping prisons with their squirming cargo, flanked and protected by the sleeker, larger NightStallions that lunged and kicked and attempted to bite at anything that came within range, eyes wide and rolling with madness. For every one Mare they slayed, another two galloped off to MiM knew where. And before they could recover the fairies to the safety of the Sleigh, they were quickly and ruthlessly consumed once more.

Jack swooped above the horde of NightBeasts, slashing at anything that came too close with one hand and sending gleaming ice daggers flying into Sandy skulls with the other. With a tirade of curses, he dived down into the herd, slashing and grabbing anything looked remotely colourful, allowing his ice armour to recede around his chest, clutching them close.

"Pocket! Get in the poc-urgh!"

A pair of diamond hard hooves slammed into his back, cracking the ice and knocking the breath from his lungs, arm falling away from the huddling fairies. He recoiled as slimy, writhing tongues slid over his body to re-capture the hummingbirds, lashing out and freezing any of them that touched him. He fell below the horde, sucking air back into his lungs while re-forging his armour, glancing up as the last of the attacker's galloped past him to freedom.

Cursing a blue streak, he rose up, wincing at aches set into his limbs, allowing his make shift protection to crumble and fall below, melting long before it hit the ground.

It was only then he felt something tremble inside of his hood.

\----------

Jack spun round, hand crackling with sheer cold, fog falling between his fingers, his free hand shoving into the dark recesses of the only defence he had from the stares of others. Grabbing onto the intruder, he yanked it out, raising his hand to...

The fog in his hand faded as the fairy trembled in his grasp, huddling in on itself as feathers fluffed out as insulation, a sharp beak and broken sabre creating red streaks in his Palm. Sighing, he tugged his hood more securely over his head, bringing the feathered sprite up to his eyes.

"Hey... you scared me there Baby Tooth... You okay?"

It... no, she, stirred and looked up to meet the pale, cloudy blue eyes of the defender she had taken shelter with, wings fluttering slowly at first, testing everything was working, before rising up, giving a soft chirp of affirmation.

"Oh thank goodness!"

Tooth fluttered over next to the floating youth, scooping up her child/clone with trembling hands, raising her up to rub her against her cheek.

"At least one of you is safe... Jack...  _Thank you_..."

He glanced away, even though he knew neither of them could see the pale pink spread on his face, suppressing a wince as his cheek stung. Casually, he lifted it up as though to scratch, adding a thick layer of frost.

"Hey, I'm not that much an Asshole... 'course I was going to help."

Touching down onto a balcony, Jack followed Tooth and Baby Tooth as they headed for the only place large enough for the Sleigh to land properly, the pair twittering to themselves as they passed by every ransacked room, the Queen appearing more and more distressed. Underfoot were countless boxes, opened up forcefully and whatever laid inside stolen. Judging by the indentations, they were for storing teeth. But why would monsters be after the teeth?

"Tooth? What did they..."

The rest of his question was forgotten as a loud yell and soft boom filled their ears, North yelling a battle cry that almost shook the gold leaf from the walls. Exchanging a single glance, the pair of flyers and one diminutive follower swept along to the doorway, slamming it open.

The hanger, or something similar to one, was in chaos, with North's sleigh haphazardly "landed", crashing through several coin dispensers, scattering their payloads along the flow in a multitude of denominations. Sandy was snapping a golden whip at a dark cloud that was ghosting from place to place, Aster attempting to herd it out into the open with his grenades, barking out pookan curses with each throw.

Immediately the warrior queen leapt into the fray, her gleaming sabre flashing as she swung. Jack, meanwhile, held back, watching the cloud as it bobbed and weaved, silently calling over his wind, wrapping it around the end of his crook. A pink tongue flicked over pale lips as he focused, watching the Guardians attempt to corral the smoke, waiting for just... The right... moment...

Swinging his staff, he sent out the wind just as the smoke veered away from another of Aster's grenades, smirking as it caught the invader, slamming it against a nearby pillar, stripping the ethereal fog away to reveal a black clad, grey skinned man, who rolled out of the gust of wind with a small snort. Calmly rising to his full height, he dusted off his robe, peering at the guardians with an unimpressed stare.

"Well well well... The big four. Unable to blow away  _smoke_."

Sandy swung out one of his whips in an attempt to snare the Nightmare King, only for the bogeyman to swish around a pillar, vanishing into the shadows, his laughter filling the echoey hall, coming at them from all directions. Stepping out of the shade of an overturned coin salvo, he sarcastically rested his chin in one hand, his other cupping his elbow.

"Oh, but who's this bright young thing? Let's see, ice, hood, staff..."

The man sank down into the floor, the guardians turning their backs to each other, scanning every direction at once.

Almost every direction.

Boney fingers slowly rested and gripped the teen's shoulder, Jack giving only the slightest hitch of his breath as the man of terror leaned down, slick black hair parallel to tussled white hidden beneath his hood.

" _Jack Frost_... oh, this is delicious... Just what are you doing here?"

Shrugging out of his grip and twisting, Jack sneered as the last trace of Pitch vanished back into the floor, self consciously growing more ice over his back.

"Oh, you know... in the neighbourhood... saw something straight from a fisherman's nightmare attacking a city..."

"Ohh, thank you, I admit... I worked hard on it." Pitch grinned wide as he walked on the ceiling above the frosty teen, sharp teeth that looked like it should have gone to a few sharks gleaming in the wan light of the almost completely set sun, making Jack's skin crawl.

"But see, you're not a guardian, so.... you're not worth noticing... which, hehe, isn't much a change, is it?"

\------------------

Aster snarled as Pitch...  _touched_ Jack, his protective instincts baying for blood as he leapt forward, his dagger sharp boomerangs flying from his hands, spinning through the air where Pitch had his head mere seconds ago, landing in front of Jack. He felt his fur fluff up, a relic of the past as his eyes narrowed, teeth baring in a snarl. He straightened his body, adding a full foot to his normal, slightly hunched height, claws slipping from his fingertips and Jack...

Jack. Backing up against a pillar, hands shaking even as his knuckles turned a paler white than normal as he clutched his staff to his chest. 

Blinking, he let his hackles fall, reaching out slowly.

"Jack?"

He saw his mate's chest rise and fall in a silent, deep breath, pushing away from the pillar and angrily shoving past the Pooka, voice too even to be natural, words clipped.

"I'm fine. Fuck off."

He weakly held his hand out before sighing and letting it fall, pausing only to snap his arm up and snatch his weapons out of the air before rejoicing the others.

He was many things. But he wasn't stupid. Jack was afraid, of him, more than he was of the Lord of fear himself, which was distressing to put it mildly. It was also dangerous. Pitch was an expert at gripping even the most innocent and rational of fears and twisting them into something truly horrendous.

So for now, he hung back, keeping a set distance between them, no matter how much it hurt, how much it gripped at his  _own_ fear. He had the practice needed to submerge whatever was bothering him the most within other fears, such as heights. He only hoped it would be enough as he watched Pitch banter with Tooth before vanishing completely, leaving the once majestic palace to slowly fade.

Tooth herself wasn't faring much better, loosening the vibrant colour of her plumage, a few feathers moulting, following the path of corruption currently gnawing away at the walls and floors.

Then he clenched his jaw, tight. Tooth, she was... The mural...

Inwardly he winced, already predicting what was to come as Jack stiffened, flared with ice and slowly turned to face the rabbit, eyes boring into him.

"Aster. Why didn't you mention my memories would be here?"

\--------------

Pitch smirked on his throne as his NightMares released their weakened cargo into the cages, turning his attention back to the black orb radiating the same smoke he used to travel swiftly, staring right into the face of Aster.

A hood, filled with darkness? Could they have made it any easier?

And now, oh... He  _tingled_ all over as he read the fear that was connected to that same darkness, pale ghosts of memories playing over and over in his mind's eye. That first fateful swipe. That brutal kick. The on going Chase of Hunter and Prey, exhausting the broken, battered body to the very brink of fading...

It was tempting... Oh,  _so_ tempting to take that fear and run with it, to rub it into their precious, child loving faces... to out the fact that one of their own had nearly killed the lad for a day of bad weather.

Even he wasn't that petty for crying out loud.

But Jack... He had potential... The cold, the dark, the winter... what went better together to create a symphony of fear, a veritable  _feast_ of the stuff, than something that looked so very normal... and just twist it, ever so slightly.

Holding up his other hand, black grains swirled and formed a floating image of Jack. Jack, sans hood, with black hair, dead eyes, cracked, frostbite extremities and a slasher smile...

The feeling of corrupting a once pure creature into a twisted mockery was almost orgasmic... The Pooka were especially sweet to snare... and in time, he would add Aster to his collection currently chained below his lair.

But first, he had to be broken.

Clenching a fist over the Black Jack, the sand pouring between his fingers,  he indulged himself in a little light "evil laughter", echoing through the cages and soaking in their terror. Let them plan. Let them plot and struggle and  _hope_.

He had eyes on them, an unknowing traitor. And a beautiful weapon just ready to be deployed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is lacklustre and possibly late. My dog was put to sleep during the week. But I did promise to try and get a chapter out every Saturday.
> 
> It looks as though the cheating fic had a lot of support, so it's confirmed. It will involve heartbreak, confidence issues and far more NSFW scenes... if my boyfriend agrees that is.
> 
> Also, can anyone explain this "March Hyde"? What I've heard so far is intriguing... but when I try to find out more about this Pooka-Curse person I hit a brick wall.
> 
> And yes, I have made everyone slightly more badass. I mean, come on, they guy wiped out whole star systems, let's make him a bit more scary than smashed eggs...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protection or punishment?
> 
> A friend, a truce and plans in motion...

The wood bit into Aster's neck as Jack dragged him by the crook to a small, secluded room within Tooth's palace, icy footprints causing the hare to hop and jump to avoid the spiky, icicle growing tracks. Swinging his staff round, Jack slammed Aster's back against the wall, pinning him in place. Hands grabbed at the wood, swallowing hard as he fought to keep his breathing calm.

"N-now, I... know this... looks bad... but believe me, I only-"

Ice crept up the staff, slowly, as Jack stared, his hands trembling slightly. A soft tapping filled what was essentially a closet, and it was only glancing down that Aster caught small dew-drop shaped ice tumbling out of the shadows of Frost's hood, shattering like glass on the bronzed floor. Swallowing hard, Aster closed his own eyes and shuddered. Somehow, this was worse than the countless nights he had spent dream less, innumerable scenarios of Jack, hurt, afraid, dying... 

Jack never cried, no matter the hardship... Not even in the years before they met.

Hanging his head, he seemed to shrink in on himself, ears folding down as he awaited the inevitable.

"Ah deserve this... ah know that... but at least let me explain first... ah only had yer happiness in mind..."

The staff trembled harder as the sharp growths crawled up the wood, the soft, vulnerable flesh of Aster's throat making for an easy, tempting target. His fingers chilled as the ice crackles, gleaming shards pricking his fingers...

With a yell, Jack tore the staff away, ramming the butt into the floor hard enough to dent the metal, chest heaving as he sucked in air. Then, as though all strength left him, he slumped back against a wall, sliding down until he could rest his forehead on his knees. In a tired voice he glanced at the Easter icon, sighing wearily.

"Just... just make it quick. What's your big excuse this time..."

For a few moments he only rubbed at his neck, slowly taking the same position as Jack on the opposite wall, arms hugging his knees close.Taking time to collect his thoughts, he looked over at the mate he once had.

He knew, even when they first got together, that he would have to explain this. He had only hoped to leave his lover in blissful ignorance until he could confidently say he had left his old life behind. Although, back then, he had thought they would be in their nest when he explained, using careful touches and loving chinning to reassure him.

"Jack... without exception, every spirit retains memories of their lives as Mortals. North. Tooth. Me. Even bloody Pitch."

He reached up to rub at his face, trying to phrase his thoughts carefully.

"Until you. Barely a man as a Mortal, with all traces of your old life... washed away."

He still remembered the horror as the implications settled in all those years ago. That Manny would transform someone and remove all trace of who they were... Their very Centre could wind up forgotten, never revealed if the fates had their way. Their entire reason for being, just... gone.

He had tried to needle out the information from the man himself, but he remained curiously stubborn. In his mind, that left two possible options.

"Jack... either Manny is Protecting you... or Punishing you. And there's no way to tell which until its far too late."

Idly, he started to groom one of his ears to buy himself time, and to allow his recent revelation to sink in. He watched fingers play over smoothed wood and carried on, slowly.

"What if you found out... that you, Jack Frost, lover of children everywhere... had done something so terrible, that Manny felt he had no choice but to remove your memories? Or if something so traumatizing occured, and the now clear mind was a blessing?"

He stared at the floor, picking up dents and scratches in the bronze leaf.

"What if I broke you Jack?"

He tried to ignore the snort and continued.

"What if you... I dunno mate... froze a couple o' kids solid? Or that you were captured by one o' th' more sadistic folk? There are tortures that make use o' a spirits immortality... Either way, Manny had a reason, and it must have been a good one..."

He watched Jack pick at the grain of the wood with his finger nail, silence falling over the pair thick a suffocating blanket. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he waited for his other half to respond. After an age, he rose his head with an annoyed grunt.

"So. Memories. Fine. You're going to help me get them back."

Aster let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. One hurdle overcome. Now for the main event...

"Jack? About... that Easter..."

\-------------

The three remaining guardians exchanged glances as yelling, loud cracking, rending of metal, and General mayhem came from the corridor Jack had dragged their comrade down, Sandy shaping a question in broken images.

Should we help?

A particularly loud bellow of anger and their Springtime partner's pleading explanations quickly answered that, the shortest of the three miming stuffing fingers into his ears and singing. 

Eventually however, Jack marched out, cursing and grumbling as he went, a contrite, shivering Aster following behind, the pair lost in their own conversation.

"-ut of course, should anyone so much as bends a bristle on your Fucking brushes its the end of the world  _-sorry-_ but if it's anything of my Shit, well, I'm only Fucking Jack Frost right? He isn't important enough to be taken seriously  _-sorry-_ so who cares if his staff was used as a hoe  _- **really** sorry-_ or his maps as a damned brush cleaner!"

Jack was waving his arms wide as he went on, with an impressive vocabulary of swear words vast enough to leave the ex-bandit tilting his head as he envisioned one particularly detailed one. Twisting on the pad of his foot, Jack shoved his finger into Bunny's face, the air chilling rapidly, leaving everyone to breathe fog.

"If you actually thought of someone other than yourself, or something other than your  _fucking_ holiday, maybe you wouldn't be such an isolated bastard!"

With a snarl of anger, he turned away from the Rabbit, heading back to the Sleigh when a quiet voice stirred the painfully still air.

"Yer right..."

Winter paused as Spring's whisper brushed at the edges of his hearing, staff clicking onto the ground once, refusing to turn round.

"Ah fought... argued... yelled... fuckin' hells mate, looking back... you should have left mah sorry arse decades ago."

His ears fell bonelessly around the side of his face, wincing as far too many memories replayed themselves in his mind.

"Ah hurt ye... an' not jus' on Easter... Ah was... Hell... you put up with so much, an' ah never even tried t' understand..."

He rubbed at his face, trying to even out his voice, completely disregarding the three Guardians watching from the side lines.

"Ah have no right t' ask ye t' come back love... Ah know that now... but... can we at least work together fer now? Ah swear, once we deal with Pitch... I won't bother ye again. Ah'll even let ye turn me into a bloody pincushion. MiM knows ah deserve it..."

\----------------

Four pairs of eyes stared at the two males, Aster hunched down on his hind legs, head bowed. Jack meanwhile refused to turn round, tapping his staff against the floor in agitation, until he groaned and reached up, running fingers through his hair beneath his hood, yelling out.

"Fine! Fine, but  _just_ for the kids!"

Baby Tooth twittered quietly as she fluttered in front of Jack as he made his way to the Sleigh, North and Tooth watching Aster straighten up, sharing a glance and nodding, stepping in front of the bunny, arms folded as they silently demanded an explanation.

Meanwhile, Sandy floated over to Jack, huddled down, rocking back and forth as he mumbled quietly to himself. Baby Tooth stood on his shoulder, patting his hood slowly, looking up at the Dream Guardian with furious eyes. Carefully, he slipped himself in next to the youth, hand hovering until he began to rub at his back, drawing out a shocked gasp.

Calmly, he maintained his supporting strokes as Jack mumbled apologies, shaking his head and shaping his sands.

Do not be sorry Aster did something what can we help?

Jack stared dumbly at the shifting images before shaking his head, resting his chin on his folded forearms, wordlessly conveying his lack of understanding. Sighing, Sandy let his sands return to his hand. Not for the first time, the Star Pilot wished he had vocal cords like the rest of the creatures on this world. For now, he remained silent, a firm supportive hand resting on a trembling back.

From the Sleigh, Sandy and Baby Tooth watched their fellow guardians interrogate Bunny, North oozing malevolence silently, the threat of violence bubbling away beneath the almost still surface. Tooth meanwhile was clearly making her displeasure known, one of Aster's ears in each hand, yelling straight into his face. The rabbit sat there and took it, wincing slightly at the warrior queen's grip and shrill voice, until she jerked back from him with a gasp.

Jack rose his head long enough to catch sight of Tooth's feathers flutter to the ground, shuddering as the first wave of non-belief surged through her.

Only he saw Aster give a small sigh of relief as he massaged his aching ears, North's attention returning to the matter of Pitch and his goal of dominating the hearts of the children of the world.

His plan was simple, but even Jack could see the sense in it. If the teeth were taken, of  _course_ it had to be the Tooth Fairy.

"Huh. Guess we're honorary Tooth Fairies, huh? Sure, count me in."

He grimaced slightly as Bunny slid into the space next to him before sighing. Right. Truce.

With practiced ease, he pulled the chill surrounding him inside, reducing the rabbit's shivers somewhat. If he had to work with him, he could at least be the bigger man.

".... thanks mate."

"Mmph. Whatever."

\---------------

Pitch scowled to himself as he watched the Guardians through Jack's hood, already directing his Night Mares and Stallions to the Tooth Fairy's intended destinations, slumping down in his obsidian throne, fingers drumming on the chilled stone.

Damn that rabbit! If he had waited a little longer before his conscious got the better of him, he could have broken up the entire group!

Dismissing the cloud of shadow, he rose up, sneering as his shadow sent the hanging cages and their fluttering inhabitants swinging. He would have preferred to be rid of the fairy first, but Jack had potential... and for it to grow, he had to remain isolated.

Descending into the depths of his layer, grimacing at the silvery chains keeping the bulk of his forces contained, he commanded his armoury to open with a gesture, eyes gleaming as he brushed his fingers over the worst weaponry the Dark Ages ever produced. 

He almost passed by it, eyes dragging back to the small, boring vial surrounded by daggers and barbed claws, a smile stretching over his face, revealing shark like teeth.

Of course... they would never see it coming...

Removing the stopper, he poured some corrupted sand within, sealing it up and vigorously shaking, laughing as he practically danced up the stairs.

After all, if you can't beat them...

Make them join you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm late! Sorry, but my writing mono was pretty drained, as I think you could tell!
> 
>  
> 
> Well, I think its safe to say MiM isn't infallible... 
> 
> And I'm sure Aster meant well, but...
> 
> Anyway, yes, I'll be running my Pooka!Jack series in between this fic and the cheating one! Hope you like it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts and acceptance.
> 
> A hare's admission.

Jack gave a short whoop as he spun in mid-air, arms and staff tucked in close as he shot through the open window, landing gracefully on his feet at the foot of the currently occupied bed. His cheerful expression dimmed somewhat as he regarded the young girl tucked beneath the blankets, rubbing at his chest.

For some unknown reason, ever since he rose from the ice, anytime he saw a young girl; Brown hair, around six years old, blue eyes, shining with trust... Every single time, it made his near silent heart clench tight, a wave of some unidentifiable emotion washing through him.

For decades,  _centuries_ , he had simply dismissed it, some vague excuse related to his first year of existence, that heart broken young girl he took to following around in an effort to cheer her up. Doodling animals in the frost around her, clumsy at first, but smoothing lines and patterns as the days passed. His first time creating a snowball in late April, smacking straight into the face of a little Shit of a bully. A cool breeze that followed her around on the hottest days.

But now...

Memories. He had memories.

Memories that... Involved a young, Brown haired, blue eyed girl.

He inhaled deeply and shook his head to clear the cobwebs, quickly slipping his hand beneath the pillow and grabbing the molar that lay beneath, tossing it into the small sack that North provided for their little impromptu "contest". And quick fumble inside the other sack Tooth insisted they carry provided a small glittering coin, swiftly occupying the empty space between pillow and mattress. Pausing only to strokes the child's head, he leapt out into the air, wind lifting him as easily as a leaf in the breeze.

In the distance he could see North disappear down one chimney and reappear moments later out of another one, sack bouncing on his back with a faintly unnerving rattle. Sandy was riding his trails of sand, hand snapping out and back, like a viper, collecting incisors, molars, eye teeth, and leaving behind glittering dreams. Tooth was... unusually excited as she flittered around the town, gliding through Windows as though they were no more substantial than mist.

And as for Bunny...

Well, he always did take his duties seriously. Too seriously. He leapt and bounded between buildings with ease, slipping past what meagre defences walls and Windows lay before him with his tunnels, a bag clacking at his hip.

Jack caught himself staring once in a while and angrily shook his head, attending to the matter at hand. But the sad fact was...

He couldn't help but look at Aster, and remember what was. Okay, it wasn't perfect... but the good days were so very good. Laying on soft grass under warm sunlight, talking and laughing as the world spun on unheeded... 

He tried to hold onto the anger, and he could feel it, bubbling below the surface, but not as... potent as before. Every time the hare gave a cocky grin at snatching a tooth away from North, or a wink at the half snoring Sandy, he felt a small part inside him ache.

And he hated it.

_"You've got a kind heart cub... it's gonna get you into trouble one of these days."_

Taking a deep breath, he tried to pull the anger, the betrayal, the pain, all of it back to the surface and rejoined the hunt.

And if he happened to give a small smirk when Aster laughed... it was easily ignored.

\---------------------

Pitch scowled as his spies, tiny corrupted sprites, dripping with black ink, gave their report on the Guardians movements, dismissing them with an impatient wave. Before him lay a map, Knight chess pieces scattered, each emanating a dark, roiling aura to reflect his forces. Twisted statues identified his foes, the dark sprites dutifully dragging them across to where they had been seen last.

For the past hour they had progressed west, following the setting Sun, grimacing as the lights in their wake remained stubbornly lit. How fickle, the hearts of children. Ready to believe that some dental obsessed woman would reward them after breaking and entering, stealing parts of their bodies, somehow instantly knowing when one was ready to harvest.

And did anyone ever think what happened to the teeth? Did she build with them, eat them?

Truely, if they thought about their beloved icons for ten seconds, he wouldn't  _need_ to terrify children. Their so called protectors would do it for him!

Striding across the map, hhe swept hands and crooked fingers, arranging his forces of fear in a pincer, needle like teeth gleaming in the pale, ethereal light of his lair. The boy was often sputtering this town... how much would it break him to see it utterly consumed by the shadows....

A low chuckle rumbled in his silent chest, his black, shriveled heart quivering as he threw his head back, allowing the laughter to bounce and echo within his crooked domain, his colourful guests huddled together, chirping loudly to block out the sound.

\--------------------

Aster tossed the latest gathering of teeth in paw before dumping them into the sack held at his waist, the steadily growing weight oddly comforting as they followed the directions of the eternal queen. In the near distance he could make out the graceful, weightless soaring of Jack, his chest clenching slightly.

It was pathetic when he thought about it. Decades of searching, and it was only now,with him in arms reach that actually thought about what they had. What he had done, what Jack had put up with. 

Jack was right. He really  _was_ a bastard.

It still hurt. He didn't think anything would stop it from hurting, safe for the blatantly obvious. And it was equally obvious that there was no say in hell that would ever happen.

Lost in thought, the Pooka ran closer to The youth, who watched with suspicious eyes. The pair continued on, the miles melting g behind them, until Jack put on an extra burst of speed, pulling ahead. On autopilot, Aster pushed faster, matching him.

A small smirk flashed over hidden porcelain skin as Jack surged ahead, swooping around chimneys and aerials, the hare leaping over obstacles easily.

"You know... someone once told me I should never race a rabbit..."

The silence, and whatever spell his thoughts had ensnared the bunny in, broke, causing Aster to stumble slightly, swiftly regaining his footing. Glancing over as he leapt the gaps between buildings, he tentatively replied.

"Fastest thing on four legs mate... But Ah'm sure ye knew that..."

Jack dropped down onto the icy rooftop, running with the Wind at his back, almost as fast as the hare as he leapt into an open window, jumping out the opposite side with a hand in his sack, billowed up into the air once more.

"Well, you know how people exaggerate..."

He tossed a cocky grin at the dumbfounded hare before pressing forward with his laughter echoing in the streets. With a deep breath, Aster let out a smirk of his own, pouring on the speed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry this took so long to come out, April is a very busy month for this family (five birthdays, three on the same day, yikes!)
> 
> Sorry its so short and a bit abrupt, but I figured you'd like knowing I haven't given up this fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following Prompt.
> 
>  
> 
> Seen a lot fics where bunny and jack fight (68) then even after the most horrible events (like miscarriage in one fic, to abandoning a new mother jack in another), jack just forgives him after a few short sorrys.
> 
> I call bullshit.
> 
> If the rabbit wants forgiveness, make him earn it.
> 
> Bonus  
> \- jack was hurt physically as well as emotionally  
> \- bunny knew what he was doing  
> \- as much lovely angst as you can squeeze in  
> \- jack shows why people feared winter


End file.
